Once Upon a Stardust
by nerdywriter15
Summary: Follows the basic plot of the movie Stardust with a Captain Swan twist. In an attempt to win the affection of Neal Cassidy, Emma Swan leaves her home in the town of Storybrooke and travels to the Kingdom of Misthaven in search of a fallen star. Once there, she discovers that the star is in fact a person, a man who goes by the name of Killian Jones.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hi! For those of you who have just started reading, this fanfiction is a Captain Swan story set to the plot of the movie _Stardust_. I originally wrote the Prologue and first four chapters on Tumblr, but I thought I'd move the story over here when I made this account. **

**Updates will probably be super sporadic, but I promise that I will finish this story. Also, just so you know, the rating will remain the same throughout the whole thing.**

 **Sorry for this super long author's note. I'll try to keep them as short as possible from here on out. Enjoy!**

* * *

There is a town in Maine, a town called Storybrooke, which to the causal observer appears to be as normal as a town can possibly be. Its residents go about their daily lives — eating, working, sleeping, loving — with scarcely a care in the world. Hardly any of them can remember anything of interest happening in their quiet little town, and most of them prefer it that way.

However, there is a legend that the town of Storybrooke is the one place on earth where the realm of Magic spills into our own. It sits at the edge of a large forest, which is separated from the rest of the town by a Brooke. It is said that if one crosses the Brooke, they will find themselves in the Kingdom of Misthaven, a land of enchantment and adventure.

Since the very beginning days of Storybrooke, there has been a law that no one shall cross the Brooke and go into the forest, and a guard has always been stationed at the Brooke's edge to prevent people from doing just that. But the guards have very seldom been needed. Hardly any of the citizens of Storybrooke — whether because of the law, fear of the unknown, or blatant disinterest — have attempted to cross.

However, there was a boy many years ago who did cross the Brooke, which was something that no one in living memory had ever dared to do before. His courageous decision (or as some would say, stupid impulse) would set in motion the events that would lead to one of the most epic love stories of all time.

And that, dear reader, is where our story begins.


	2. Chapter 1

"You want me to let you do _what_ , boy?" the old woman asked incredulously, staring at the blonde-haired boy before her with a look of utter disbelief written across her face.

"Just like I said before," David Swan replied, his jaw set and his blue eyes glittering with defiance. "I want you to let me cross the Brooke." At that the old woman sighed. She had been at this job for nearly eighty years, so long that most of the people of the town had forgotten her name and had taken to simply calling her Granny. In that time, plenty of people had claimed that they wanted to cross the Brooke. Most of them were easily dissuaded, but she could tell that David would not be. He had a certain look on his face, the look that only the most determined of potential trespassers carried.

"You know that I can't let you cross," she said, subtly shifting her gaze towards the crossbow that sat only feet from her, and once again meeting David's gaze. His eyes widened for a moment as he realized her meaning. The moment was brief however; his expression once again became one of determination. Granny braced herself, getting ready for a fight. She knew that she could stop him from crossing easily, even without the use of her crossbow (that was for things on the other side that were much more dangerous than him); she was much more limber than she looked. However, she wasn't as young as she used to be, and — if she was being honest with herself — she didn't really feel like dealing with the situation. Although the fact that he still hadn't left meant that she would probably be forced to.

She was therefore incredibly surprised when he suddenly hung his head in a gesture of defeat. "You're right," he said quietly. "I know that that's the rule. I guess I'll be going now."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Granny reached out to pat him on the shoulder. "Thank you, my boy. Give my best to your mother when you get home," she said as she turned around.

And that split second when her back was turned was all that the boy needed to get past her. She felt a rush of air next to her, and the next second saw David sprinting toward the Brooke and clearing it in one leap. For a moment, she contemplated stopping him. A simple flip over the Brooke and a well-aimed kick to his shin would be enough to down him. But for some reason she held back.

Let the boy cross. He would more than likely be fine. And when he came back he might finally understand why she (normally) let no one cross the Brooke.

~/~

David ran as fast as he could, the wind whipping through his hair. He had never felt so invigorated in his life. He had done it. He had crossed the Brooke. Even though he knew that there wasn't anything past it other than trees and bushes, he couldn't stop the sense of pride that had begun to flare through his chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that Granny was nowhere in sight, and allowed himself to slow to a walk. He contemplated heading back, but decided that he would rather not face Granny's wrath so soon. He was loathe to admit it to anyone, but her crossbow did make him feel slightly uneasy.

As he walked, he was surprised to see that the forest seemed to get lighter the further into it he ventured. Curious to see what the source of this light was, he once again sped up to a full sprint. He suddenly found himself at the edge of a small cliff, and skidded to a rapid halt, his jaw falling open in shock. But it wasn't the fact that he had almost fallen and broken his leg (and possibly his neck) which surprised him. Rather, it was the fact that the light that was coming from what appeared to be a large town that sat at the bottom of the incline.

For a moment, all he could do was stare. _So the legends are true_ he thought excitedly, unable to tear his gaze away from — what in his eyes seemed to be — the miracle before him. Giving no thought to the dangers that could possibly be awaiting him there, he carefully made his way down the hill, determined to explore the new world that he had found himself in.

When he got to the bottom of the hill and entered the town, he found himself at the edge of a large market. He began to wander through, his mouth falling open in awe. Although some aspects of the town and market reminded of home, he couldn't help but feel as though he had walked back in time. Instead of the modern buildings and cars that he had left behind in Storybrooke, he found himself staring at buildings that seemed like they had been built hundreds of years ago.

But the oldness of the buildings was not the only thing that surprised him. The vendors at the market were all working out of covered wagons, and were selling a variety of things that he had never seen before. Brightly colored bottles filled with strange substances littered the tables. They sat next to herbs and plants that he had no names for. And he almost jumped out of his skin when he passed a jar full of white round objects, which he discovered were eyes when they all simultaneously turned their gaze upon him.

He was so wrapped up in the sights before him that he almost didn't notice the old woman walking towards him. He couldn't make out her face from so far away, and fearing that it was Granny coming after him with her crossbow, he hurriedly ducked behind one of the wagons, crouching down and peeking out from behind it. When the woman came close enough for him to see her face, he breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed that Granny had not decided to follow him.

His relief was short lived, however. He stood up and was just about rejoin the crowd when he saw a hand flying towards him and felt the sting of something sharp colliding with his chin. The hit hadn't been that hard, but he was caught by surprise and immediately fell backwards onto the ground.

He felt something hot and sticky running down his chin. He brushed his fingers against the area and pulled them away to see a small amount of blood dripping from them. _That's going to leave a scar_ , he thought dejectedly before his attention was pulled away from his unfortunate injury by a loud voice.

"Who are you, and why are you sneaking around?"

His gaze snapped up to the figure standing before him: a woman with dark black hair and deep green eyes who seemed to be about his age. In her right hand, she held a small jewelry box, which was obviously what had cut him. And although he was angry that she had done so, he couldn't help a traitorous thought from creeping into his brain: _she was beautiful_.

"You're a girl!" he exclaimed, slightly shocked that someone so petite had been able to floor him so easily.

"Woman," she corrected, her tone terse. "Now I'm going to ask you again, what were you doing sneaking around?"

"I wasn't sneaking around." She raised an eyebrow at him incredulously. "Okay, I was sneaking around, but I didn't mean any harm by it," he said quickly. "I just…I'm not really supposed to be here, and I was hiding from someone…Granny," he stuttered, becoming more and more agitated.

"You were hiding from your grandmother?" the brunette asked.

"No, she's not…well she kind of…it's just that…," he said struggling to find the words. He looked down in embarrassment, feeling his face turning red. A moment later he heard chuckling and looked up to see her extending her hand towards him. He accepted it, and she helped to pull him to his feet.

"It's okay," she said, offering him a kind smile, which he couldn't help but return. "I'm sorry for hitting you," she went on. "But you can't be too careful around here."

"What made you change your mind about me?"

She smirked. "No one who was really dangerous would ever looked as flustered as you do right now," she laughed.

He wanted to be angry, and come back with some witty retort, but he couldn't stop himself from laughing along with her as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"I suppose I should give you something to say sorry punching you in the face," she said once they finally stopped giggling.

"You don't have to," he said, taken aback by her gesture. "You were just being careful."

"But I want to," she replied, taking his hand to lead him to the tables at the front of the wagon. She started looking them over, her brow furrowed in concentration, making it clear that she was searching for something very specific. He wanted to ask her what it was that she was so determined to find, but he feared what she would do to him if he dared to break her focus.

Eventually her frown turned to a smile and she reached out to grab something. She held it up triumphantly, and David was able to see that it was a small, white flower.

"This is a snowdrop," she said, holding it out for his inspection. "I know it's not much, but please accept it as my way of saying sorry," she continued, tucking the small flower into his jacket pocket. "It'll bring you luck."

"It's beautiful," he said, his eyes never leaving hers, trying to convey that the snow drop was not the only thing that he found beautiful. She must have understood — at least he hoped she did — because her cheeks became flushed and her eyes flicked towards the ground in embarrassment.

His gaze followed hers to the floor, where a glint of silver caught his eye. Looking more closely, he saw a thin chain wrapped around her ankle. Craning his head, he saw that it dragged along behind her towards the back of the carriage.

"What's that?" he asked. "That thing around your ankle, what is it?"

The smile could not have faded from her face any faster. "My chain," she said quietly. "It keeps me from leaving."

"What do you mean it keeps you from leaving?"

"See that woman over there?" she said, pointing across the market to a woman in a purple dress with curly blonde hair that stuck out every which way. "Her name is Maleficent. I used to be a princess, but she tricked me into becoming her slave. This keeps me tethered to her. I'll only be free once she's dead."

"There must be a way for you to escape!" David exclaimed, suddenly outraged.

She smiled sadly back at him. "Are you saying you're going to free me?" she asked. "That you're my knight in shining armor? My very own Prince Charming?"

He could tell that she was mocking him. Determined to prove her wrong, he dug around in his pocket until he found his Swiss Army Knife. Kneeling down, he took the chain in his hands, and — with very little effort — cut it. He smiled in triumph. But that triumph was short lived; not a moment later the two separate pieces of the chain melded themselves back together.

He looked up at her apologetically.

"I guess you're not destined to be my hero today, Charming," she said, sounding only slightly disappointed, as if she had already resigned herself to her fate.

He found that he didn't like seeing her sad. "I have a name, you know," he said hesitantly as he stood back up, hoping to once again lighten the mood. "It's David."

She considered that for a minute. "I still like Charming better," she said, returning his grin.

"Now that you know mine, I think it's only fair that you tell me yours," he said good-naturedly, hoping that he wasn't pushing too far.

She stared back at him, looking as though she was once again considering something, looking for some answer. "It'll cost you a kiss," she said a moment later — her expression both flirtatious and determined — as she tapped her cheek softly.

He looked at her quizzically, silently asking whether she was serious. When she returned his smile and tapped her cheek again, he blushed before leaning in.

At the very last second she turned her head, meeting his lips with hers. At first he was frozen in shock, surprised at her forwardness. But it only took him a few moments to relax, and to return the kiss eagerly.

"It's Snow," she said, when they finally broke apart. "My name. It's Snow."

"That's a beautiful name," he said. "But if I can't free you, what do you want of me?"

Smiling again, she took his hand and led him back towards the cart.

~/~

While he had wanted so badly to stay with Snow, to try to find a way to free her, she had insisted that he return to Storybrooke. She was sure that she could never be free, and she didn't want to subject him to her same fate. And so David returned back to Storybrooke the next day, with only the snow drop (and the hope that he might find her again one day) to remind him of the beautiful princess that he had met and the night that they had shared.

However, nine months later, he received unexpected souvenir from his trip over the Brooke. One cold night in October, he heard a knock at the door, and opened it to see Granny standing before him with a basket in her hand. He was about to ask her why she was there when he noticed the basket's contents. Inside the basket, wrapped in a white blanket with the name Emma stitched on it in purple ribbon, was a sleeping baby. He didn't have to ask if the little girl was his, he knew she was (why else would Granny have brought her here?). And although he didn't know if he was capable of being a father, he couldn't help but feel a flash of happiness as he took the basket from Granny and brought his baby ( _his_ baby!) back into the house.

The next eighteen years in passed in the blink of an eye, and Emma Swan grew from an infant into a beautiful girl. But how Emma Swan became a girl is not what our story is about. Rather, it is about how she transformed from a girl into a strong, confident woman.


	3. Chapter 2

Emma was nervous. Really nervous. The school's prom was only a few weeks away and she had yet to find a date. She decided that even though it was the boy who traditionally asked the girl, she would take her fate into her own hands and ask someone herself.

She had had a crush on Neal Cassidy for a while now, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity to finally get him to notice her. And today was the day she was going to to it — the day she was finally going to ask him.

After being let out of her math class at the end of the day, she walked over to her locker, which was right across the hall from Neal's. She smiled when she saw that he was already there.

"Hey, Neal," she said in what she hoped was an upbeat tone, walking up to him just as he was closing his locker.

"Hey, Emma," he said in a confused, though not unkind, tone. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue.

"I was wondering if maybe —"

"Hey, Neal!" another voice behind them said, cutting her off. Both of them whipped their heads around to see another girl walking down the hallway toward them.

"Hey, Tamara!" he said, his voice full of much more warmth than it had had when he had greeted her.

"I was just talking with my friends about how prom is just around the corner. You got your eye on anyone for a date yet?" Tamara asked flirtatiously, leaning up against the locker.

"Maybe," he replied in an equally coy manner.

"Well don't take too long," she said, giving him a playful shove as Emma rolled her eyes in disgust. "Don't want all the good ones to get taken."

Neal chuckled. "Oh don't worry. I won't. I'll see you later, Tamara," he said, walking off down the hallway.

Emma watched him walk away, feeling her confident attitude rapidly deflating. He hadn't even bothered to say goodbye to her.

Unfortunately, her disappointment must have showed on her face.

"Oh my gosh, were _you_ going to ask him out?!" Tamara exclaimed the moment Neal was out of earshot.

"None of your business," Emma said, before turning around and walking away.

"He'll never want you!" she heard Tamara call after her as she walked down the hallway. "Just like your mother never wanted you!"

Emma stopped in her tracks. Living in a small town, everyone knew everything about everybody. For Emma, that meant that everyone knew that her mother had left her in a basket on her father's doorstep with nothing but a blanket and a note to say goodbye.

"What did you say?" she said, turning around and fixing Tamara with an icy stare.

"I said that there is no way that any boy in this school, especially Neal Cassidy, would want you. Your own mother couldn't be bothered to stick around. So why would he?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Before she knew what had happened, Emma had rushed down the hallway and punched Tamara squarely in the face.

She tried not to let the fact that her mother had abandoned her bother her. But she couldn't help but feel a sting of anger every time the topic came up. If she was being honest with herself, most the frustration she was feeling in that moment wasn't even directed at Tamara. A lot of it was directed at her mother. But that didn't stop her from enjoying the sound of her fist connecting with Tamara's jaw.

She was still seething as all the students in the hallway gathered around them and a couple of teachers rushed out of their classrooms to keep the fight from escalating any further. She was only vaguely aware of everything happening around her, with only one thought dominating her mind.

She would show Tamara. She would show all of them. Emma Swan was going to go with Neal Cassidy to the prom, no matter what happened.

~/~

"Dad, I got a detention," she said looking in the mirror. After her anger had subsided, Emma was finally able to focus on a very real fact: she had gotten into a fight at school. A real fight. She knew that she was really lucky she hadn't been suspended (she suspected that it may have had to do with the fact that her father knew some people at the school). But a detention was still bad, and she still wasn't quite sure of the best way of breaking it to her father."Dad, today at school, I got a detention. Dad, today, I…"

"Got a detention." Emma spun around to see her father standing behind her, his expression unreadable. "Archie called me."

"Of course he did," Emma said rolling her eyes. Archibald Hopper, the school's principal, was good friends with her father. Even if he hadn't been, they lived in Storybrooke. News traveled fast. If her father hadn't heard it from Archie, he would've heard it from someone else (Leroy, probably).

"You gonna tell me why you thought it was okay to punch someone in the face?" he asked, walking to sit on her bed and patting the spot next to him.

"Not really," she said, staring down at her toes.

"Emma," he said firmly, "come on."

Emma sighed in annoyance — or was it apprehension? — as she crossed the room and plopped down on the bed. "I was trying to ask Neal to prom," she began tentatively, "but Tamara interrupted me. Then after he left she told me that if my own mother didn't want me then why would he?"

She looked up to see him staring at her with a sad expression before he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead and pull her into a hug. Although a part of her — the rebellious teenager part — wanted to pull away, she felt herself relaxing into the hug. She would never admit it out loud (at least not anymore), but her dad's hugs always seemed to make her feel better.

"You know that your mother didn't want to leave you right?" he asked. "You know that she just wanted to give you your best chance."

Emma sighed as she pulled away. "Then why can't you tell me more about her? You've always said you'll tell me when 'I'm older,'" she said, raising her fingers to make air quotes. "I'm eighteen, Dad. How much older do I have to get?"

"I know," he said, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. "You're right."

"So?" she said, trying to prompt him to talk.

"I think that at this point I'm not telling you more for me than for you. I just don't like thinking that you're going to be out there on your own soon," he said with a wistful smile, which Emma couldn't help but return. "I promise I'll tell you everything soon," he said. "I just need a little more time. Is that okay?"

Emma wanted to say that no, it wasn't okay. She had waited eighteen years for answers, and it was about time that she got some. But looking at the earnest expression on his face, she felt her anger melting away. She nodded at him before giving him another short hug. They sat there in comfortable silence for a while.

"So, prom," he said finally. "Don't you think you should be getting back out there and asking Neal?"

"I'm not going to prom."

"Why not?"

"Aren't I grounded? I mean I almost did get a suspension."

"This probably isn't what I should be saying as your dad, but I'm honestly not sure if I would have reacted any differently. You're a good kid. I think I can let this one slide."

Emma's face broke into a huge smile.

"Now you still need to ask him, right?" her dad asked, to which she nodded. "I think I have an idea."

~/~

Two hours later, Emma found herself standing outside of Neal's house, with a picnic basket in one hand and a large blanket tucked under the other arm. Taking a deep breath, she reached out and rang the doorbell, shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot.

 _This was a bad idea_ , she thought as she waited. _He's probably going to think that you're some crazy stalker._

She was just getting ready to bolt when the door opened and she found herself standing face to face with Neal.

"Emma!" he exclaimed, surprised. "What…what are you doing here?"

"I…I…," she stuttered, "I thought maybe we could go hang out? Like maybe in the park or something? I've got some food in here," she said lifting the basket, waiting for him to say something. But all he did was look at her quizzically as an awkward silence stretched between them.

"Um…I," he said, finally breaking the silence as he looked back over his shoulder uncomfortably. "I've kinda got a lot of homework to do tonight, Em," he said, looking anywhere but her eyes.

Emma sighed in defeat. It was a Friday night. There was no homework he had to do that couldn't wait a day or two. He was making it glaringly obvious that he didn't want her.

"It's okay," she said quietly, fighting the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. "I understand. I'll see you on Monday, I guess."

"Yeah, see you, Em," he said, before closing the door in her face. Emma stared at it for a few moments before she turned around and walked away.

She had just gotten to the end of the block when the sound of rapid footsteps behind her made her turn around. She was surprised when she saw him running towards her. "I guess my calc homework can wait until tomorrow," he said breathlessly when he caught up with her. "So where are we going?" he asked.

"The park," she said, unable to keep a grin from stretching across her face. "Well then let's go," he replied, taking the blanket in his left hand so that he could hold her hand with his right. She nodded in agreement. They walked in a slightly awkward — though not uncomfortable — silence for a while until they reached the park.

"Picnic table or grass?" he asked once they got there.

"Grass," she replied, nodding her head toward the blanket and chuckling.

"Right," he said, laughing as well as he unfolded the blanket and shook it out. "I wasn't thinking," he said as they sat down.

"It's okay," Emma replied as she opened the basket. "So I've got some sandwiches and soda and stuff," she said, trying to quell her nerves as she pulled the food out. "I've also got some Apollo bars. I know that you like them," she said, pulling the chocolate from the basket and blushing furiously at the smile that began spreading across Neal's face.

"It looks great," he said, reaching for one of the sandwiches.

Like their walk, they ate in an awkward silence. In her mind, Emma had rehearsed a million times what she would say if she was ever to go on a date with Neal Cassidy (because that's what this was, right?). And yet, she found that she couldn't say any of them. Most frustratingly, she couldn't seem to ask the one question that had been flitting around her head for the past few months.

As the food disappeared, and the hour grew later, she realized it was now or never. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

"So, Neal," she began, trying to keep her voice steady. "I actually brought you out here because I had something that I wanted to ask you."

At that the small smile that had been resting on his face disappeared and he ran his hands over his face and through his hair as he let out a large sigh. "I think I know where this is going, Emma," he said, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice.

"You do?" she asked, feeling her heart sinking.

"You want to ask me to prom, right?"

"Yes."

He smiled sadly at her. "You know we're friends, right Emma?" he asked, to which she nodded.

"But I can't go to prom with someone like you. We're just not the same."

"So who are you going with?" she asked, fighting both the urge to cry and the small — though larger than she would like to admit — part of her that wanted to punch him in the face as well.

"I thought you knew, Em," he said, seemingly oblivious to the emotional turmoil that she was going through. "I'm asking Tamara."

She didn't answer, which he apparently took as an invitation to keep going.

"Look, Emma, it's nothing personal. We're just from different worlds, different social circles is all. And besides, Tamara is really serious about this. I heard that she's going all the way to Portland to get her dress and stuff. That really shows she wants me more than a picnic does, you know?"

Emma swallowed, fighting as hard as she could to push the feelings of anger and betrayal down. But she couldn't stop the blush of deep embarrassment that she could feel covering her face. She looked up at the sky, trying to look anywhere but Neal's face, and said a silent thank you to whoever might be listening that the stars were the only ones who had been there to witness her humiliation.


	4. Chapter 3

But not even the stars were paying attention to Emma Swan that night. The attention of the universe was instead focused on the Dark Castle of Misthaven, where the queen was drawing her last breaths.

"I can't believe," Cora Mills said, her voice still terse despite the apparent effort she was having to put forth to speak, "that after all I've done for you, neither of you has been able to reach out and take the throne " she said, fixing her icy stare on the two women standing at the foot of the bed. "I got rid of the king and of his little brat. The least that one of you could have done was gotten rid of the other. Really, is premeditated murder that hard?"

"Mother, is that really necessary?" the dark-haired one asked. "Couldn't you just choose — "

"Of course you would want her to choose!" the red-headed one interrupted. "She always has favored you over me. And we both know that if we followed _tradition_ that it should be _me_. After all, I am older."

"And yet my father was of higher station! Surely that should mean — "

"Enough!" Cora said sternly before breaking into a violent fit of coughing. "All that matters now," she continued once she finally regained her composure, "is that I am about to die and Misthaven will not have a queen once I do. And since neither one of you seems capable of killing the other, I've come up with another way to settle this."

Reaching behind her head, Cora unclasped the necklace that adorned her neck. In the middle of the large rope of gold sat a clear stone that was just slightly smaller than a closed fist. The candlelight of the room bounced off of it, causing it to glow and giving it an almost ethereal quality. Cora stared at the stone for a moment, caressing it gently, before beckoning her daughters to come forward.

"This will be the test to determine who becomes the ruler of this land," she said, waving her hand over the stone and causing it to float. She waved her hand again and the doors on the opposite side of the room opened to reveal a small balcony that jutted out into the night. "Whoever retrieves this stone first," she whispered, "will become the rightful queen of Misthaven. May the more worthy sister prevail," she said. With a final flick of her wrist, the stone shot forward and out the door, speeding upward in the direction of the heavens. Both sisters rushed out to the balcony to watch as the necklace traveled higher and higher, eventually leaving their sight.

But although the women could not see it, the stone had not stopped moving. It traveled higher and higher, not stopping until it had left the surface of the earth altogether. Eventually it met resistance from something and came crashing back down, glowing even more brightly than it had been before. Both sisters gasped when they saw it come crashing down to earth once more, landing somewhere beyond the horizon.

They stared after it for a while longer, both contemplating where it could have possibly landed, before heading back to the bed, each taking one of their mother's hands, knowing it would not be long now before she would be gone and their quest would begin. Sure enough, scarcely ten minutes later, Cora's eyes slid shut and her chest became still, leaving Misthaven without a ruler for the first time in its history. The sisters stood there together quietly for a while longer until a high-pitched giggle broke the silence.

"Well, sis," Zelena said, smiling somewhat maniacally. "This ought to be fun."

Regina rolled her eyes in annoyance, as she turned on her heel and began to stomp out of the room. She had work to do now, after all. "Yes, I suppose it ought to be," she said sarcastically under her breath.

~/~

Emma sat next to Neal, the bite of his rejection still stinging at her heart, staring determinedly at the ground and fighting the lump that was threatening to form in her throat. She was desperately trying to think of a graceful way to extricate herself from the situation. She had already made a fool of herself, and she didn't want to do anything to make it worse. Fortunately, the awkwardness was broken when Neal pointed up to the sky.

"Look, Emma!" he exclaimed. "A shooting star!"

Emma rolled her eyes, thinking that Neal had probably just gotten overexcited over a stupid plane. But when she looked up, she realized that it was indeed a shooting star that was streaking across the sky. It was bright, almost certainly brighter than anything that Emma had ever seen before. _It has to be close by_ , she reasoned. _Nothing else can explain why it's glowing so brightly_.

She watched — completely and utterly fascinated — as it traveled across the sky, its light eventually fading as it hit the ground. She realized that it had probably landed just beyond the Brooke, which gave her a wonderful idea.

"Neal," she said quickly, not giving herself time to overthink her plan. "For you to go to prom with me, I'd cross the Brooke and I'd bring you back that fallen star," she said hurriedly, holding her breath as she waited for his reply.

Neal began laughing and she fought the urge to huff in annoyance. "You can't cross the Brooke, Emma," he said patronizingly. " _No one_ crosses the Brooke," he said, his expression sobering slightly when he saw the serious expression on her face. "Besides, it's probably not even a real star. It's probably just a random piece of space rock."

"I know that," Emma conceded. "But think about how cool that would be to have!" she said, refusing to give up just yet. "And the fact that I'd do something as crazy as crossing the Brooke has got to show how much I want to be with you. I know that it shows it better than a trip to _Portland_ ever could!"

Neal was quiet for a moment, clearly contemplating what she had just said. A moment later a small smile spread across his face.

"My very own star," he said, a note of excitement creeping into his voice. "I kind of like the sound of that," he said, causing Emma's spirits to lift. "You've got yourself a deal, Emma," he continued. "I was planning on asking Tamara to prom next Friday, but if you can bring the star back to me before then, I'll go with you instead."

Emma smiled in response. It seemed as though she had better begin planning for a trip across the Brooke. She had a star to find.


	5. Chapter 4

They often say that important events happen in threes, and our story is no exception. Emma and the royal family were not the only ones whose fates were to be changed by the coming of the fallen star. There was one more group who had an interest in the star.

In a large house at the edge of the kingdom, in a dark area where no one dared venture, there lived three powerful sorcerers. The stars' falling mattered more to them than to anyone else, for stars had been the source of their life and power for nearly a thousand years.

On this particular night, it was the one called Rumplestiltskin, the most conniving of the three, who was watching the window for any sign of a falling star. It had been almost three hundred years since the coming of the last one, and he was beginning to feel frustrated. If another one did not come along soon, he and his companions were sure to die.

Just as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he saw it. He blinked once, twice, rubbing his eyes to make sure that they were not deceiving him. But looking at the sheer brightness of the light, he knew that it must be a falling star that he was seeing, and that the star must be close. He was unable to stop the impish giggle from escaping his lips as he grabbed his cane and hobbled towards the stairs at the back of the mansion to wake his companions.

He trudged up the staircase on the right, and once at the top, walked the few steps to the room where his first companion was sleeping. "Rise, and shine, Ursula," he giggled banging at the door. As quickly as he could he turned around, and bypassing his own room which was in the middle of the floor, limped across to the oposite side of the house, banging on the door of his other accomplice. "You too, Cruella! Good news awaits us!"

"You better have a good reason for waking us at this time of night, Rumple!" Ursula said as she threw open the door of her room. "Indeed," Cruella said dramatically, as she too joined the group a moment later.

"Oh but I do, dearies," he replied, once again with a high pitched giggle."Our wait is over. A star has fallen, and it's even closer than the last one!"

"Are you quite certain of this?" Ursula asked.

"You have been wrong before, after all," Cruella drawled.

"If you don't believe me, let us consult the bones," Rumplestiltskin answered tersely, his irritation evident in his voice.

With that the three of them hurried down the stairs and down to the main floor, which was filled with various animals, all in wooden cages. Pulling a rabbit from one of the cages, they carried it to a table in the middle of the room and swiftly slit its throat. Cutting it open, they began to examine its bones, clearly searching them for some type of meaning.

Even without the slaughter of the hare, the three sorcerers presented a terrifying picture. You see, stars carried great magic. Possessing the heart of the star meant life eternal for the one who held it. But the three sorcerers had gone against nature and had split the hearts of all the stars they had found, and doing so had come with a steep price. It was true that the pieces of the hearts had prolonged their lives, and had allowed them to become virtually immortal. However, it had transformed their appearances to reflect the evil that resided within each of them.

Cruella had been changed the least. Her skin had taken on a deathly parlor, and was almost paper white. Her hair, which had once been a beautiful blonde color, was now split down the middle: half of it was white, and half of it was as black as ink.

Ursula's condition was much more gruesome. Although her face was not that of a young girl, it was still beautiful. If one was to look at her from only the waist up, she might appear normal. No, it was not Ursula's upper body which was strange; rather, it was what was attached to her lower half. Jutting out from her waist, were eight tentacles, like those of the octopus.

Worst of all was Rumplestiltskin. Scales covered his body in its entirety. His teeth were rotten, and his eyes were cold and emotionless. He looked like some type of reptile, like a crocodile or serpent transformed into a man.

But after living so long with each other, their strange appearances were of no concern to the three sorcerers. It certainly did not deter them from searching for whatever truths were to be found in the bones. Their search lasted a while longer, but eventually they stopped their examination, signaling that they had found what they were looking for. Cruella and Ursula both looked away from the table and back at Rumple, looks of awe and excitement upon their faces.

"It appears you were right, Rumple," Cruella whispered.

"Indeed, it does," Ursula conceded. "A star has indeed fallen in Misthaven."

"Yes," Rumple replied, rolling his eyes. "Now that we have stated the obvious, can we please move on to more pressing matters, such as retrieving the star? Where is our Babylon Candle?"

"You used it all to find the last star!" Cruella chided. "We have none left!"

"Don't act as though you had no part in it!" Rumplestiltksin retorted. "I seem to recall that you advocated for it's use—"

"It is of no matter!" Ursula interjected loudly, clearly desperate to keep a fight from erupting.

"One of us will simply have to retrieve it on foot. We have enough of the last star left for one of us to do so without attracting unnecessary attention."

"But who will go?" Rumplestiltskin asked.

"We'll settle this as we always do," Ursula said authoritatively, giving each of her companions a meaningful look. Each of them closed their eyes, and once again reached their hands out toward the pile of bones.

But Cruella and Ursula were the only two who kept their eyes closed. After a short second, Rumplestiltskin opened his eyes, and with an evil smirk, reached for what he knew would guarantee his trip.

A moment later, the other two also opened their eyes.

"I've his liver!" Cruella exclaimed!

"I've his kidney!" Ursula cried!

"And I've his heart!" Rumplestiltskin giggled, turning to smile triumphantly at the other two, who gave him annoyed, yet resigned looks. "Now, shall we get me my star so that I can begin my quest?"

With a roll of her eyes, Cruella walked over to a large chest, and opened one of its many drawers. From it, she pulled out a small box. She pulled a key from her pocket, and after unlocking the box, threw back the lid to reveal what was left of the last star's heart. It was just a small piece, giving off a faint pink light, nothing like the strong, red glow of a living heart. It still beat feebly, but it was so weak that you would have needed to stare at it for a long time to notice it was moving at all.

"Your heart," she said sarcastically, holding the box out to him.

"Mmmhmmm, thank you, dearie," he giggled happily before taking the heart and placing it in his mouth.

The change was almost instantaneous. The scales disappeared from his skin. His eyes cleared. To anyone looking, Rumplestiltskin would have appeared to be a normal man. Turning around, he walked across the room towards a full length mirror, the limp gone from his steps. Once he was close enough, he stared into the mirror, smiling happily and admiring his transformation.

"Well, dearies," he said excitedly. "I do believe I'm ready."

~/~

 _You can do this, Emma, she thought as she walked towards the Brooke. You can do it. Dad did it once. And if he can do it, then you can do it too._

"Hey, Ruby," she said when she finally arrived at the Brooke, waving warmly to the woman standing there. Two years ago, Ruby had taken over Granny's position as Guardian of the Brooke (unlike the rest of the town, Granny actually was her grandmother) when she had decided to retire in favor of opening a small diner. Emma liked Ruby. She was friends with her father and had been the closest thing to a sister that Emma had had growing up. She hoped that she might be able to play the family card in order to convince Ruby to let her cross.

"Hi, Emma," the brunette replied, smiling warmly. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing. I was just…um…wondering if maybe you could let me…um…cross the Brooke? Just this one time? It's kind of important."

The smile faded from Ruby's face. "Emma, come on. You know I can't let you do that."

"Please! I promise I won't tell anybody! You've known me my whole life, you know I won't."

"I'm sorry, Emma. I really just can't."

"Please, Ruby. You know that I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," Emma said earnestly.

Ruby bit her lip, her internal debate clear to see on her face. For a brief moment, Emma thought that she might have managed to convince her friend. But a second later, Ruby sighed, her expression changing from one of contemplation to one of regret. "I'm sorry, Emma," she said sincerely. "If it was up to me I would, but your da—" Ruby suddenly stopped talking, her eyes widening, betraying the fact that she had said more than she should have.

"Wait!" Emma exclaimed. "You said something about my dad," she said, her voice rising with every word. "What does he have to do with this?" she asked, almost shouting.

"Emma, please," Ruby said. "I really shouldn't have said anything. It was a mistake. Please, just go home."

Emma sighed, trying to shift her expression to one of resigned disappointment.

"Okay," she said. "Sorry for bothering you."

"You didn't bother me, Emma," Ruby said kindly. "I really am sorry I can't let you cross. But rules are rules, you know?"

Emma nodded. "I know, Ruby. I'll see you later," she said with a wave before turning around and walking away.

She began to walk away, slowly counting to five in her head. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she whipped around and sprinted back towards the Brooke. She cleared it in one jump and landed firmly on the other side. She smiled, pleased with herself, before turning around to see if Ruby had followed her. But the brunette was nowhere to bee seen. Emma stared back over the Brooke in confusion, wondering where Ruby possibly could have gone. She was just about to call out when she heard a sharp growl from behind her.

Emma slowly turned around to see a large, brown wolf snarling at her. She gasped in shock. The thing was huge. Emma had never seen a wolf in real life before, but she had seen enough Animal Planet to know that this one was gigantic. She stood there for a moment, paralyzed with fear, before the wolf snapped at her again and inched forward. Barely able to contain her scream, Emma slowly inched backwards, trying not to make any sudden movements. As if sensing that she was surrendering, the wolf sneezed before turning around and walking back towards the trees.

Wasting no time, Emma turned around and sprinted back toward the Brooke, running and running with no intent to stop, her long blonde hair whipping in the wind behind her. Her thighs ached and her lungs burned, but she was determined not to stop until she had put as much distance between herself and that monster as possible.

It wasn't long, however, before her brain started functioning again and she came to a skidding halt. She had left Ruby behind! For a moment, she contemplated continuing on alone. Ruby had probably seen the wolf and taken off, she reasoned. But she pushed the thought away. She couldn't just leave without making sure that Ruby was safe. Turning back around she ran back through the woods, digging her phone out of her pocket as she did so and desperately trying to unlock it and call her father without tripping.

"Dad!" she said frantically, struggling to get the words out and take in air at the same time. "You need to get…Brooke…now. Huge wolf, so big. Ruby, she's…don't know. Just get here!" she exclaimed, stuffing her phone back into her pocket as the Brooke once again came into her line of sight.

She continued to run towards it, once again skidding to an abrupt halt. Standing before her was not the wolf, as she had been expecting, but rather Ruby, who was nonchalantly painting her nails a deep red color as though nothing had happened.

"What are you doing back here Emma?"

"The wolf," Emma panted. "Wanted to make sure you were okay!"

"What wolf?" Ruby asked.

"You know! The wolf!" Emma exclaimed. "It was so big, you must have seen it."

"I'm sorry, Emma, but I didn't see anything. Are you feeling okay? Should I call your dad to come get you?"

Emma looked at Ruby scrutinizingly. She could tell that she was holding something back. But this day had been exhausting enough, and she didn't feel like pressing it just now.

"No, it's okay," she said dejectedly. "He'll be here soon."


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: I'm back! Thank you so much to everyone who has favorited/followed/commented on this story! It really means a lot to me. I'm sorry that it took me so long to update, but this chapter is a little longer than my others, so hopefully that makes up for it. Enjoy!**

* * *

Emma was already waiting at the edge of the forest when David sped up in his red truck, the tires making a terrible skidding noise as he brought the car to an abrupt halt. He killed the engine at breakneck speed, and before she knew it he was out the door and running towards her.

"Emma are you okay?" he yelled as he reached her, grabbing her shoulders and leaning down so that he could look her in the face. "I could barely understand what you were saying on the phone," he panted, the panic evident in his voice.

"Everything's fine," she said, pushing his hands from his shoulders, causing him to straighten up. "Apparently I just overreacted," she continued, looking up at him. "Or I'm going crazy. I'm not so sure. I really just want to go home and go to sleep," she said, brushing past him and walking towards the car, hearing him follow her only a moment later.

Both of them were silent as they opened the doors as stepped in. Emma heard him start the engine as she buckled herself in, but when she looked up, she realized that he had made no effort to put the car in drive. He simply sat there, gripping the wheel tightly and biting his lip.

"Dad, are you okay?" she asked. "I didn't mean to scare you, I really did think…"

"I'm okay. I just think we need to have a talk when we get home," he said as he finally put the car in drive.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think you would be mad, I just…"

"I'm not mad," he said glancing over at her. She could tell that he was telling the truth. There was no anger in his eyes. Only sadness, which was actually more terrifying than any amount of rage could have been. She had no idea what she had done to evoke that emotion in him.

"Then what's wrong?" she asked gently.

"You know how I said earlier that I needed to wait to tell you about your mother?"

Emma nodded but furrowed her brow, wondering why he was bringing up that conversation now of all times.

"I think it's time I told you who she really is."

~/~

Emma sat quietly at the table, staring at the cup in between her hands. David had refused to answer any of her questions on the way home, saying he would rather get everything out all at once. When they had finally arrived, he had told her to sit at the table, which she had done, while he rummaged around the kitchen. She had wanted to say something — anything — to break the terrifying silence, but somehow she knew she shouldn't interrupt him. Her father was a generally easygoing guy. He rarely ever got like this. And she knew from experience that the best thing to do when he did was to let him deal with it in his own way.

A few minutes after their arrival, he had come to the table, handing her a mug of her favorite drink: hot chocolate with cinnamon. Over the years, David had told her a great number of trivial things about her mother, such as the ways in which she and Emma were similar. According to him, they had the same shade of green eyes, and the same chin. But the most amusing way in which they were the same was in their love for the same drink. Though there were times when Emma felt as though she hated her mother, when she told herself that she wanted nothing to do with her, Emma always felt closer to her whenever she had this drink. And apparently David had noticed.

"I know I've always just told you that your mom was just passing through when I first met her," he began, "and that she came back to leave you with me, but that's not true. I actually went and found her, and then she sent you to me after you were born."

"Why would you lie about that?" Emma asked. "Why does it matter where you met her? It doesn't change the fact that she abandoned me."

"Because I didn't think you'd believe me when I told you where she was from. But after tonight I think you might. I met her when I on the other side of the Brooke."

"You mean…like in the woods?"

"No. What I mean is that all the stories about the Brooke are true. There's a whole other land across it."

Emma felt herself getting angry. There was no way that another land existed on the other side of the Brooke. He was just weaving a more elaborate version of _the stork left you on the doorstep_ story.

"Why are you lying to me?" she yelled exasperatedly. "You're the one who said you wanted to tell me the truth about her! I can wait some more if you're not ready, just don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying to you."

" _Right_. So I'm just supposed to believe you when you say that there's a whole other _magical_ world on the other side of the Brooke. That might've worked when I was three, Dad, but not anymore!" she exclaimed as she stood up and began to stalk across the room.

"Emma," David said quietly but forcefully. She stopped in her tracks and turned around to look at him.

"What?" she said, venom filling her voice.

"Tonight when you told me you thought that you were going crazy. Was it because it seemed like Ruby might've been the wolf you were so afraid of?"

Emma felt her anger leave her, only to be rapidly replaced with wonder. That was exactly what she had been starting to think. It seemed like there was no other way to explain why Ruby had suddenly disappeared, and why she had later seemed so unconcerned. But that couldn't possibly be what happened. Werewolves didn't exist. Did they?

"Emma, have I ever lied to you about anything?" David asked.

Emma raised her eyebrow at him. He had literally _just_ admitted that he hadn't told her the truth.

"Okay, fine. Have I ever lied to you about anything other than this?"

"No," she agreed.

"And do you really think I would tell you something this crazy if it wasn't true and ask you to believe it?"

"No," she said again. "But it _is_ really hard to believe," she said, walking back to the table and sitting down.

"I know. Sometimes it still feels like it was just a dream. But I have living proof in front of me that it wasn't," he said, smiling softly at her. "But I understand if you're not ready yet. If you want I can wait to tell you the rest of the story."

Emma considered that for a moment. He was right. The revelation that there was an entire _world_ on the other side of the Brooke, that _Ruby_ — a woman she had known since birth — was a werewolf, it was a lot to take in. But she _had_ waited eighteen years. She wanted to know who her mother was.

"Yes," she said, her voice full of conviction. "I'm ready."

~/~

Emma listened attentively as David told her the story of how he and her mother had met. Despite the absurdity of it, she forced herself to keep an open mind. There were times when she wanted to interrupt and ask questions, but she could see how hard this was whole conversation was on her father. He was gripping his mug tightly, and refused to meet her eyes for most of it. At one point, she saw his own eyes tearing up and reached out to take his hand. He met her eyes with a grateful smile, and after a deep breath had continued.

When he finally finished, they sat there in silence for a moment, neither of them saying anything. Emma had always thought that finding out who her mother was would give her more of a sense of closure, but for some reason she still felt like their was something missing. She sat there for a few more minutes before she finally realized what it was.

"But why did she give me away?" she asked. David snapped his head up quickly, and she could see the hurt clearly beginning to build in his eyes. "Not that I'm not happy being here with you," she said quickly. "I love you so much. I really do. But why didn't she want to keep me with her?"

"I think I may have something to explain that," David said quickly. "I'll be right back," he said as he quickly stood up and left the room.

A few minutes later, he came back with a small basket. "This was what she sent you in," he said as he set it down. Emma looked at it curiously, realizing that it wasn't empty. Curious, she reached into it and pulled out a small silver chain.

"Is this…?" she asked.

"Yes, that's the chain that I cut," he said. "And this," he said, reaching into the basket…

"…Is the snowdrop she gave you," Emma finished. "Can I… can I have them?" she asked timidly, to which David nodded as he handed her the small flower. "Thank you," she replied as she tucked both the chain and flower into her jacket pocket.

"There's one more thing you should see," David said, once more reaching towards the basket. He carefully pulled out a small, circular package tied up with a string, and handed it to Emma.

"It's addressed to you," he said. "I've never opened it."

Slowly, Emma pulled on the string and began to unfurl the paper. Inside was a black candle. She didn't really know what to do with it so she set it aside before smoothing the paper out and beginning to read out loud:

 _My Dearest Emma,_

 _I want you to know that all I ever wanted was for you to have your best chance. If I could have, I would've kept you. But I knew that you would never be safe as long as you were with me. I never would have been able to forgive myself if something had happened to you._

 _I still have hope that we will be able to meet someday. I've often found that the fastest way to travel is by candlelight. Light the candle, and then think of me and only me. In the meantime, I will think of you everyday. Even though you will grow up apart from me, please never doubt that I love you with all my heart._

 _Love,_

 _Your Mother_

Emma rolled the note back up and stared at the candle, unable to fight the smile that crossed her face. Her mother wanted her. Her mother had always wanted her. And now she had the chance to go and found her.

"Should I go?" she asked, looking up at her father. "Should I try to see if I can find her?"

"If you want to go, I won't stop you," David replied. "God knows I've thought about going after her myself more than once these past eighteen years."

"Why didn't you?"

"She trusted me to take care of you. I didn't want to betray that trust by leaving you here to try and go find her. But you have nothing to stop you. And as much as it pains me to admit it, you're not a little girl anymore. You can choose to do this if you want."

Emma sat there for a moment, considering her options. She was scared, there was no doubt about it. But she had to at least try to find her mother. She would never forgive herself if she didn't at least try.

"I want to go," she said.

David smiled. "I wouldn't have expected anything else," he said. He stood up and came back a few seconds later with a box of matches, which he proceeded to open.

 _Everything's coming together_ , Emma thought as David lit the match. _Maybe I can find her and bring her back and we can be a family_ , she thought as he brought the flame towards the candle. _Maybe after I find her I can go find that star and Neal and I can be together_ , she thought just as the match's tip made contact the wick of the candle.

Emma barely had time to register that the candle had been lit before everything went dark and she felt herself shooting forward. She felt a whooshing sensation all around her, as if she was flying through a harsh wind. It stung her eyes slightly, causing them to water and she screwed them shut, hoping that it would be over soon. It wasn't exactly a painful experience, but it definitely wasn't pleasant. She was just beginning to wonder whether this candle idea had been a good one when she felt herself slowing.

A moment later, she came to a rapid halt, hitting something solid, yet surprisingly soft. Letting out an indignant huff, Emma opened her eyes slowly, curious to see what it was that she had hit. She let out a surprised gasp when she saw a pair of sky blue eyes staring into her own.

"Bloody hell!"

~/~

"Bloody hell!"

Killian Jones couldn't stop the expletive from falling from his lips. Speaking in such a way was looked down by the other stars in the sky. His brother had once told him that such crass words were only used by thieves and pirates, the scum of the humans on the earth. But Killian was fairly certain that, were he here, his brother would surely have forgiven him for such an outburst.

He had been up in the sky, shining like he normally did, when something had come hurling towards him and had knocked him towards the earth. He couldn't remember when exactly he had passed out — when he had been rocketing though space or when he had hit the ground — but the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground, staring up at the heavens rather than down at the earth, and trying desperately to catch his breath while his heart beat erratically in his chest. He had clutched his hand to his heart, trying to calm himself down, which was was when he had felt something large resting against his chest.

Curious, he had pulled it carefully up to eye level, realizing that it was a large, clear gem that was attached to a thick, gold chain. He had looked at it in confusion, wondering how something so small could possibly have removed him from the sky so violently, and how it could have possibly found a way to wind itself around his neck. He hadn't had much time to wonder, however, because a moment later he had collided with something for the second time that day.

Or rather, _someone_ had collided with _him_ , which was what had caused him to release his mildly colorful expletive. When he got over the initial shock of the impact, he opened his eyes, and was greeted by the sight of a feminine face staring back at him. He noted that she had large green eyes and thick curls of blonde hair which surrounded them almost like a certain. He might have even thought that she was beautiful if he hadn't been so perturbed at having been jostled around so much in the span of just a few hours.

"You're not my mother!" she exclaimed indignantly as she scrambled off of him and stood up, dusting herself off.

"I should bloody well hope not, love," muttered to himself in an equally indignant manner, which she didn't seem to notice. He began to push himself up off the ground when he felt a shooting pain go through his left hand. Using his right hand, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, and began to examine his injured hand. He gave it a few experimental squeezes. He didn't think it was broken but it was surely sprained. He sighed. This day was just getting better and better. Not only was he millions of miles away from home with no idea of how to get back, but now he also had an injured hand.

He was distracted from his own predicaments by the blonde, who was very clearly almost as distressed as he was. She was pacing back and forth, muttering to herself. He rolled his eyes. Of course. Not only did had he been practically run over by the blonde, but it seemed like said blonde was also crazy. Great.

~/~

This was not going as she had planned. The candle was supposed to take her to her mother! She was supposed to think of her mother, and only her mother, and the candle was supposed to…

Emma stopped in her tracks, a realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. She hadn't been thinking of her mother. She had been thinking of Neal and of the star. _The star!_

For the first time since she had landed she registered her surroundings. She realized that she was standing in a shallow, yet wide, hole. It almost looked like it could be a crater. Maybe this was where the star had landed.

Excited, she turned around to face the man that she had run over. A part of her brain was aware that he was probably one of the most attractive men that she had ever seen. He had thick dark hair, a generous smattering of scruff on his face, and forget-me-not blue eyes. But Emma pushed those thoughts aside. She wasn't here to flirt. What she needed to do was focus on finding the star, finding her mother, and then getting home.

"Excuse me," she said walking back over to him. "But have you seen a fallen star anywhere around here?"

"Are you joking, love?" the man asked, his voice bitter.

"Not your love," she snapped back in an equally harsh tone. "And I'm not stupid. We're clearly in the middle of a crater. It's not unrealistic to think that this might've been where it fell."

"Yes, this is where I fell."

"What do you mean this is where _you_ fell? Are you trying to tell me that _you're_ the star?"

"For someone who claims not to be stupid, you're awfully slow on the uptake, _love_ ," he said, emphasizing the last word, clearly trying to get a rise out of her.

Emma stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. This man, this _person_ was the star? That was crazy. _Although_ , she reasoned, _it's not any more crazy than the fact that werewolves and magic candles exist_.

"You're really the star?" she asked one more time.

"Aye," he said sincerely.

Emma felt her anger evaporate, and her face break into a grin. She had found the star! Sure, it wasn't what she had originally come here for, but at least it was something. Now all she had to do was figure out how to get it — or rather _him_ — back to Neal. Then she could worry about finding her mother.


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hi everyone! I am SO sorry for the super long wait. Life got pretty hectic (in a good way) and I did not have the time and/or energy to write for a long while. I know how frustrating it can be to read a fic which is updated as sporadically as this one has been so I just want to say thank you so much for sticking with me. Real life is always going to come first, but I am going to do my best to do a better job of updating in the future. I would also like to say thank you for all of the follows, favorites, and comments; they really do mean the world to me!**

 **On to the story! I hope you enjoy this chapter which is entirely focused on Killian and Emma!**

* * *

Killian watched as a huge smile spread across the blonde's face, which only added to his contempt toward her. He didn't know what he had said that could have made her so bloody happy, when only a moment ago she had been so terse with him. It seemed awfully unfair of her to be angry with him when _she_ was the one who had crashed into him.

"Wow!" she exclaimed, looking him up and down. He felt heat begin to flood his cheeks and the tips of his ears. As a star, he was used to being stared at, but never quite so closely. He scratched nervously behind his ear. He kept thinking that she would look away, but when she continued to stare at him he cleared his throat loudly. She jumped slightly and met his eyes. He was pleased to see that she did look slightly remorseful, her cheeks reddening to a shade which he was sure must match his own.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. At least she did seem genuinely apologetic. "It's just…I never knew that stars could be people — or I guess that you _are_ people — until just now. It's a lot to take in."

Killian felt himself bristle at that comment. He knew that there were parts of this world where magic didn't exist, and given this girl's clothing — jeans and a red leather jacket — she was probably from one such part. However, he had had a rather trying night, and he found her ignorance grating on his nerves. "I'm all man I can assure you, love," he said, giving her what he hoped was a very pointed look. She rolled her eyes but without the venom she had possessed only a few moments ago. It would appear for now that her curiosity was overriding any prickliness — and he had a sneaking suspicion that she prickliness to spare— that the blonde possessed.

"You're nothing like I would've expected a star to look like even if it was a person," she said, continuing her perusal. "I mean that rock you're wearing looks like something a star would wear, but what's with that black getup of yours? It doesn't seem like you'd be able to do much shining in that. Why isn't it blue or silver or something?"

Although it was asked innocently, and probably would have been a question very easily answerable for anyone else, her question stung. One, "the rock he was wearing," as she had so eloquently put it, was the thing that had caused his current predicament. And as for his clothing — there was a very specific reason for his chosen attire, one he would prefer not to think of at the moment.

"This," he growled, tearing the chain from his neck and stuffing it and the stone into his pocket, "is not mine! It came flying at me out of nowhere at a billion miles an hour, and knocked me out of the sky. And my choice of attire is none of your bloody business!" he yelled. He watched as the smile faded from her face. _Good_ , he thought. _Maybe now she'll leave me alone_. "Now if you're done _ogling_ at me," he said, "I'll be going now."

He turned around and had begun to stomp off when he felt something cool and hard slip around his left wrist. He looked down to see a thin chain wrapped around his wrist and to see the blonde holding the other end.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he exclaimed outraged. He pulled at the chain, trying to loosen it, but stopped when he got a closer look at it. He had been alive long enough and watched enough people to recognize that this was no ordinary chain. The only way that this was coming off of his wrist was if she decided to take it off.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't let you go! I need to take you back home with me."

"Why?" he asked, both angry and genuinely confused. "What use could you possibly have for me?"

"It's a long story," she replied, to which he rolled his eyes. "I just…I need you to come back with me to convince this guy, Neal, to go to a dance with me."

He chuckled darkly. The lengths to which the people of earth would go to impress each other would never cease to perplex him. "I fail to see how bringing me back will help you to accomplish that," he snarled back, jaw clenching in disgust.

"Ugh! I told him that I would bring him back the falling star and he said he would go with me to the dance if I did! I thought you were going to be a bit of rock, not a person!"

"Then why keep me? Won't your paramour be equally disappointed that I'm not a piece of rock?"

"I don't know! But it's the only chance I've got!"

"Of course! Nothing says romance like the gift of kidnapped man!"

She inhaled sharply, her jaw clenching and her hand curling into a fist. For a minute she looked like she was going to punch him, and he steeled himself waiting for the blow. But it never came. She took a deep breath and slowly unfurled her hand.

"Look," she said softly, "I know you don't want to go with me. But it's really important to me. And what if I can promise to help you get home?"

"And how do you plan to manage that?" he asked, his tone still biting.

She didn't say anything but crouched to the ground and grabbed something. When she stood up, she wore a triumphant smirk on her face and held a black candle in her hand. "I find that the fastest way to travel is by candlelight," she said.

"You've got a Babylon Candle!" he exclaimed, his anger momentarily evaporating. He reached for it but she quickly snatched it a way, placing it in the pocket of her jacket.

"Yeah I do," she said. "And if you come home with me and don't give me a hard time, I'll let you use it to get back to your home."

Killian mulled her words over. While it was a less than ideal situation, he truly had no other option. He couldn't break free from the chain, and even if he could have, it was unlikely that he would find a better way to get back to the sky.

"Fine," he sighed, closing his eyes running his hand over his jaw. "Where is home?

"Maine," she replied. "Storybrooke, Maine."


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: I feel like this is all I ever say in my author's notes, but I really am sorry for the long wait. This semester was a little rough on me, but fortunately it's all over. I'm going to stop promising to have things posted in a timely manner (because it's pretty apparent I'm incapable of that), but I do promise to finish this even if it takes me years. Finally, I just want to say thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story; you really are the best!**

* * *

Regina sat on a bench under the apple tree in the castle gardens. She had always come out here to think, and today was a day when she had a particularly long list of things on her mind. It was true that there had been very little love lost between herself and her mother, but it was still strange to face the reality of a world without her. She wanted to feel sadness — and she supposed that she did, somewhat — but the pervading feeling was one of relief. Finally, she was free. She could do what she wanted, be who she wanted. Her mother's iron grip and idea of what she should be were no longer holding her back. It would be so simple to return to the castle, to tell Zelena that she could have the crown. After all, running away wasn't anything new; she had tried many times before. Only this time there was no one to stop her.

But as much as she wanted to leave, she could barely stand the thought of her sister being the one to rule Misthaven. She and Zelena had been quite close when they were younger, but as they had grown, Zelena had become convinced that Cora favored Regina over her. That jealousy had festered until Zelena had become — at least in Regina's opinion — just as power hungry as Cora. Regina had rarely concerned herself with the affairs of the kingdom. As far as she was concerned, they had done very little to earn her time or attention. But even she couldn't help but feel a little twinge of guilt at the thought of leaving the kingdom at Zelena's mercy.

"You can't let her win."

The voice behind her — although an echo of her own thoughts — startled her. After taking a deep, composing breath, she turned around to see Johanna, one of the palace servants, standing behind her.

"You can't let her become queen," Johanna reiterated, even more vehemently than before. In most situations, Regina would have appeared to be the more intimidating of the two. Her whole ensemble — dark hair pinned back into a tight updo, severe and unforgiving makeup, and a black form fitting dress — contrasted greatly with Johanna's graying red hair and loose servant's uniform. However, the conviction in Johanna's voice and countenance — hands on her hips, with her jaw set and eyes wide — made Regina stay her eye-roll and bite back the retort on her tongue. Instead, what left her lips was an honest query.

"What makes you think I'll be better than her?" she asked turning around and facing forward.

She heard an exasperated sigh and a few moments later felt the servant sit next to her. Normally, she would have reacted with rage at such impertinence, but she was in a particularly exhausted mood.

"You wouldn't be my first choice. You know that Snow is the rightful ruler of this land."

Regina opened her mouth to argue but abruptly shut it. As much as it irked her, she knew that it was true. And Johanna did too. There was no sense in arguing it now.

"I'm not here to argue with you about should'ves and might-have-beens. I'm here because that sister of yours insane and I can't bear the thought of her ruling this land. You might have allowed your mother to influence your life all of these years, but I think that at your core, you're better than that. She's not here anymore. You don't have to act cold and cruel to get her approval."

Regina was just about to answer when she heard a clapping noise behind them. She turned around to see Zelena striding toward them across the lawn, mockingly applauding them. This time, Regina didn't bother to suppress her eye-roll. It would seem that her refuge was not quite as out of the way as she had thought.

"Riveting, riveting speech, Johanna," Zelena said as she approached, a jaunt in her step. "And here I thought that we could all be friends."

"What do you want, Zelena?" Regina asked as Zelena walked around the bench to face them.

"Merely to give you a peace offering to show that I intend to play by the rules," she said, flourishing her hand and causing an apple to appear both her and Johanna's hands in a puff of green smoke. "I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but that's no reason we can't start getting along now, is it? Look, I've given you your favorite treat and even brought an extra for this servant to share."

Regina raised her eyebrow, eyeing the apple suspiciously, to which Zelena responded with an eye-roll of her own and a scoff.

"Oh, come on!" she said. "If I was going poison you don't you think I'd have a more clever way of going about it?"

As much as Regina hated to admit it, it was highly unlikely that Zelena would take such a straightforward approach. With an indignant sigh, she raised the apple to her mouth and took a bite. She chewed and swallowed. She heard Johanna take a bite. She waited. Nothing happened. That was when she heard Johanna gasp.

Whipping her head to her left, she saw Johanna slump over on her side onto the bench, and the bitten apple falling from her limp fingers and rolling away.

"Oh, great!" Zelena said before Regina had even had time to react. "You've gone and killed her!"

"What do you mean I've killed her?" Regina asked, surprised at the small amount of concern that laced her tone.

"That poisoned apple was supposed to be for you! I didn't expect you to be so naive, Regina, but I figured it was worth a shot. And now your carelessness has gotten her killed."

"Is she dead?" Regina asked, fighting to keep her voice neutral.

"As good as. Now, if you don't mind, I'll be off to find Mother's stone," Zelena said, beginning to walk back towards the castle. "Oh, and Regina?" she said, looking back over her shoulder. "Do try to not be so sloppy next time. It could get you killed," she said, a wicked smirk appearing on her face just before she disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

~/~

"I'm not walking another step until we stop to eat."

Emma groaned. She had landed in the crater at about three in the morning and it was now nearing four in the afternoon. And during that time her companion had refused to shut the hell up.

It had started almost immediately. He didn't say anything when she told him where she was from, and she took his silence as his agreement to cooperate. "We'll leave in the morning," she declared, shrugging out of her jacket, intending to use it as a makeshift pillow.

"Shouldn't we be setting out now, love? I thought you wouldn't want one extra minute to stand between you and your true love," he said, his tone mocking.

She rolled her eyes, as she sat on the ground, arranging her jacket and laying her head upon it. "Sleep now, true love later," she said, closing her eyes, thinking that if she pretended to be indifferent he would leave her alone.

"But it's the middle of the night! That's when stars are awake!" he said as he plopped onto the ground next to her. "There's no way I could possibly sleep now. However will I keep myself entertained?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she said, already feeling herself start to drift off.

"Is that you volunteering, love?" he asked, to which she cracked an eye open.

"In your dreams," she said, scoffing at the innuendo. "Now shut up and let me go to sleep."

"Can't I at least know the name of my captor?"

She supposed that was reasonable. "Swan," she yawned. "Emma Swan."

He laughed. "How could someone who stumbled into me with such a lack of finesse be named after so graceful a creature? The irony of it all is hilarious!" he said as he continued to chuckle.

"Make fun of my name all you want. I'm sure yours isn't much better."

"Killian Jones, at your service, love," he said with a wink and a smirk. "A dashing name for a dashing fellow, if I do say so myself."

"Whatever, _Killian_. I don't really care. I want to sleep and you should rest too."

He hadn't. He'd sung to himself, paced about, and done just about everything else he could think of to keep her from falling asleep. Eventually, it had become apparent that he was running out of steam, and Emma had finally been able to drift off. However, she had been woken only a few hours later by the harsh light of the sun.

Even as they'd walked, he hadn't left her alone. Every other minute there had been something new for him to complain about. His feet hurt. He was hungry. She was pulling the chain too hard.

To be honest, she had actually felt bad about that last one. His hand was very clearly sprained, or at least very badly bruised. But the sooner they got to Storybrooke, the sooner she could take him to Dr. Whale to have it looked at. Or maybe he'd just want to wait until he got home. If stars even had doctors.

The only time he'd been completely quiet was when they were eating the bread and cheese that they had purchased from a peddler on the road. (They'd managed to convince the farsighted man that the quarters in Emma's pocket were, in fact, the currency of the land. She'd felt a little guilty about it, but they did have to eat). But right after they had finished, it was right back to his incessant complaining that had continued right up to this very moment.

"We talked about this," she said turning around to face him. "We'll stop to eat when we get to the town near the Brooke."

"But you don't even know how close it is! It could be a three days' journey away from here for all you know. How are you even sure we're going in the right direction?"

"Look, I just do. Maybe it's because my mother was from here or maybe it's my love for Neal guiding me, I don't know."

"Your love for Neal? Yes, very reassuring."

"Look, if I let you rest and come back with some food, will you shut up? We haven't run into a town yet, so even you have to admit we're probably getting close."

He looked at her with a grimace on his face and for a minute she thought he was going to continue to argue. But his expression softened out, making it clear that exhaustion had — for the moment — won the battle over spite.

"Fine."

"Alright, come here," Emma said gesturing toward a tree.

He sat down and at the base of the tree, and she knelt down and unfastened the chain from his wrist. He sat obediently as she used the chain to tie him loosely to the tree. When she was done, she stood up and looked down to admire her handiwork.

"Is this really necessary?" Killian asked, looking up at her and shifting slightly. "Other than goading you, I haven't tried to escape or given you any other reason not to trust me."

She had to admit that what he said was true. But if there was anything she had learned in the last day, it was that you could never really trust anyone fully, even if they were just trying to protect you. If she was questioning whether she could trust Ruby — or even her own father — anymore, why should she trust this stranger who she hadn't even known for twenty-four hours?

"I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you," Emma said coldly. "I'll be back in a few hours," she said as she turned around and began to walk away.

"Emma, please, I promise I won't leave," he called after her. "Swan!" he yelled, anger invading his tone as she got further away.

For a moment, one solitary moment, she considered going back. He had been a general pain all day, but he really hadn't done anything too harmful. But she shook her head, willing herself to keep going. He would be fine. She would be back with food in no time and they could continue on their way.


End file.
